Catholic Commentary
Prayer Against Abandonment and Enemies in Old Age
9Don’t reject me in my old age.10For my enemies talk about me.11saying, “God has forsaken him.12God, don’t be far from me.13Let my accusers be disappointed and consumed.
An aging believer surrounded by enemies who claim God has abandoned him responds not with self-defense but with a single prayer: "God, be near"—the only true answer to the taunt of divine silence.
In Psalm 71:9–13, the psalmist — an aging believer beset by enemies — cries out to God not to abandon him precisely when his human strength is failing. His enemies read his vulnerability as a sign of divine rejection and close in for the kill. He counters their assault with a double petition: that God would draw near to him, and that his persecutors would be put to shame. The passage is at once a raw lament, a declaration of stubborn faith, and an anticipation of the suffering of Christ.
Verse 9 — "Don't reject me in my old age." The Hebrew verb tashlicheni ("cast me away," "reject") is the same root used for the casting away of refuse or a broken vessel. This is not polite petition but visceral pleading. The psalmist explicitly names old age (ziknah) as the moment of crisis — not because God has changed, but because diminished bodily strength, social standing, and proximity to death make abandonment feel most catastrophic. The clause "when my strength fails" (often included in full manuscript traditions) intensifies the logic: the psalmist is not demanding special favor but clinging to the covenant relationship established over a lifetime (cf. vv. 5–6, where he recalls trust from his mother's womb). This verse is the hinge on which the entire cluster turns — the psalmist's vulnerability is the occasion both for his enemies' attack and for his deeper prayer.
Verse 10 — "For my enemies talk about me." The "for" (ki) is causal: the reason the prayer against abandonment is so urgent is that enemies are circling. The "talking" here is not idle gossip; the Hebrew suggests conspiring, plotting in council. They are watching, interpreting his weakness, and planning accordingly. The psalmist is socially exposed — his suffering has become public theater for those who wish him ill.
Verse 11 — "Saying, 'God has forsaken him.'" This is the heart of the enemies' charge: they do not deny God's existence but weaponize apparent divine silence. They interpret the psalmist's suffering as proof that God has withdrawn his protection — a theological taunt that doubles as a military calculation. If God has forsaken him, there is no one to rescue him; now is the moment to pursue and seize (tiphsu, "take him"). This verse echoes with enormous typological force. The crowd at the cross repeats this exact taunt against Jesus: "He trusted in God; let God deliver him now if he wants him" (Matthew 27:43). The persecutors read physical weakness and apparent divine absence as the final word — but the resurrection proves them catastrophically wrong.
Verse 12 — "God, don't be far from me." The psalmist's response to the enemies' accusation is not a counter-argument but a prayer. He does not defend himself theologically; he simply turns toward God. The phrase "do not be far from me" (al tirchaq mimmenni) is one of the most intimate idioms in the Psalter — the inverse of the enemy's claim. Where they say "God has forsaken him," the psalmist says "God, be near." This is faith operating not from felt certainty but from willed trust. The urgency is reinforced: "hasten to my help" — the same root () used elsewhere for the divine swift action that cuts through crisis.
Catholic tradition reads this passage on multiple levels simultaneously, and it is here that the interpretive tradition is uniquely illuminating.
The Christological sense is primary. St. Augustine in his Enarrationes in Psalmos identifies the voice of Psalm 71 as the vox Christi, the voice of Christ himself speaking in his human nature. Verse 11 — "God has forsaken him" — finds its most shocking literal fulfillment in the Passion: the crowd before the cross, the soldiers, the chief priests all repeat this taunt (Matthew 27:43). The cry of dereliction from the cross ("My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" — Psalm 22:1) is the deeper expression of the same divine "silence" the psalmist endures. Yet the Church teaches that this apparent abandonment is itself redemptive. The Catechism (§603) explains that Christ took on the experience of alienation from God that sin produces — not because the Father truly abandoned the Son, but so that no human being need face that abandonment alone. The psalmist's prayer is answered proleptically in the resurrection.
The ecclesial sense extends the passage to the whole Church and each member. St. Thomas Aquinas, following Augustine, notes that the Psalms speak the prayer of the totus Christus — Christ and his Body together. Every aged, weakened, or persecuted Christian who prays verse 9 joins a great chorus that includes both the psalmist and Christ himself.
The moral and eschatological senses illuminate verse 13: the shame of accusers is not a private fantasy but a preview of the Last Judgment, when all false accusations will be exposed and God's servants vindicated (CCC §1038–1039). The imprecatory psalms, properly understood within Catholic teaching, express not hatred of persons but zeal for the justice of God.
This passage speaks with particular urgency to three groups of Catholics today.
The elderly — In a culture that frequently marginalizes the old, verse 9 names their spiritual fear honestly: that diminishment signals abandonment, by society and perhaps by God. The Church's consistent teaching on the dignity of the elderly (rooted in Sirach 3 and reinforced in Amoris Laetitia §191) finds its prayerful expression here. Aging Catholics can pray this psalm not as a sign of weak faith but as the most mature form of it — clinging to God when everything else is stripped away.
The falsely accused — Verse 11 is startlingly contemporary: in online culture, the perception of weakness invites attack, and spiritual vulnerability is exploited. The psalmist models the only truly durable response: not self-defense, but immediate turning to God (v. 12) and entrusting judgment to him (v. 13).
Caregivers and parish communities — These verses implicitly challenge communities to ensure that no elderly or vulnerable person experiences the abandonment the psalmist fears. Pastoral visits, the sacrament of Anointing of the Sick, and intergenerational parish life are concrete answers to the prayer of verse 9.
Verse 13 — "Let my accusers be disappointed and consumed." The imprecatory petition here is not personal vengeance but covenantal justice. The psalmist asks that those who have accused him (satan-naphshi, "those who are adversaries of my soul") be clothed in shame and reproach. This language of enemies being "clothed" in humiliation is the Psalter's way of envisioning a complete reversal of social and spiritual fortunes — the same reversal the Magnificat celebrates (Luke 1:52). Importantly, the psalmist does not take action himself; he hands the matter entirely to God.